


The Grumpy Ones

by OrionMoonrise



Series: Thorns and Arrows [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Conversations, Gen, Grey Wardens, Grumpy Old Men, Sibling Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 13:30:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4608585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrionMoonrise/pseuds/OrionMoonrise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grey Wardens Carver Hawke and Nathaniel Howe share a drink at the Hanged Man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Grumpy Ones

**Author's Note:**

> Giveaway Prompt Fill. Carver Hawke and Nathaniel Howe being grumpy.

“So is this what it was like for the Wardens during the Blight? Cities burning? Chaos everywhere?” Carver Hawke asked his companion. Both men were seated at a table and staring into their pints quietly, as the rest of their fellow Grey Wardens had already succumbed to the drink and were passed out drunk in various upturned chairs throughout the Hanged Man. The only other person left conscious was a shabby looking low-towner with greasy black hair, standing near the bar with a foul expression on his face.

“I wouldn’t know,” Nathaniel Howe answered. “I wasn’t made a Warden until after the Blight.”

“Ah, that’s right,” Carver said. “You took the joining at the same time as the idiot who got Kirkwall into this mess. I don’t know why the bloody Hero of Ferelden didn’t just toss his sorry arse back to the Templars instead of conscripting him. It would’ve saved us all a lot of trouble. ”

“Well, if it weren’t for Anders, you’d be dead from the taint at the bottom of the Deep Roads,” Nathaniel replied grumpily. “And if it weren’t for the Hero of Ferelden, we’d ALL be dead from the taint. Show some respect.”

“Hah. Oghren was right…” Carver started with a snort, before a loud rustling sound from beneath their table interrupted him.

“Of course I’m right!” Oghren shouted as he sat up abruptly, smacking his head on one of the table legs with a loud crack. The drunken dwarf tried to shake his head to clear the pain, but fell unconscious back to the floor with a resounding belch.

“Oghren was right about what, exactly?” Nathaniel challenged.

“Right about you,” Carver replied with a haughty laugh. “You’re still hung up on the Hero of Ferelden! All these years later!”

“You shouldn’t tread on topics you know nothing about, kid,” Nathaniel narrowed his eyes at Carver before smirking wryly. “Besides, isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black? How long have you been hung up on that little pretty blood mage that lives around the corner?”

Carver didn’t have time to defend himself from the other Warden’s accusation, because the door to the Hanged Man suddenly burst open, allowing Aveline and a very tired looking Fenris to step inside.

“Will you people keep it down?” The man by the bar spat in their direction. “Can’t a man enjoy a pint in peace?”

“Don’t you prefer skulking around the Blooming Rose, Samson?” Aveline sighed. “Why are you even here?”

“In case you hadn’t noticed Guard Captain, when your friend took out the Chantry, he took out half of Hightown with it. People are packing up and moving on,” Samson said, before turning back to his drink.

Aveline and Fenris walked over to the table where Carver and Nathaniel were sitting, and took the two remaining chairs beside them. The bartender immediately came over with a pint of beer for the Guard Captain, and set down an entire bottle of red wine before Fenris, who grunted in approval.

“On the Tethras tab, of course,” The barkeep said, before returning to his spot at the bar.

“Aren’t you the Grey Warden we pulled out of the Deep Roads?” Aveline asked Nathaniel. “Last I heard, you were returning to Ferelden.”

“The ship leaves at noon tomorrow,” Nathaniel replied. “I’m just enjoying one last night of charming Kirkwall hospitality before I return to Denerim and report to the Warden Commander. What’s all this about anyway?”

“Yes Aveline,” Fenris grumbled. “You dragged me out of bed and all the way down here in the middle of the night. What’s going on?”

“We came to talk with Carver,” She answered. “I’ve received some disturbing reports from Starkhaven.”

“Starkhaven?” Nathaniel asked in surprise. “I lived there before the blight.”

“Sebastian Vael has re-taken his family seat. He plans to use his newly acquired resources to avenge the death of the Grand Cleric.” Aveline continued.

“What does that have to do with us?” Carver asked.

“He intends to hunt down and execute Anders,” Aveline exclaimed with exasperation. “He will kill anyone that steps in his way. This includes your sister, Carver. I assumed this would be of interest to you.”

“My sister can get stuffed for all I care!” Carver slammed his fist on the table.”She chose to run off with that idiot and they both deserve whatever they get.”

“I don’t believe you truly feel that way, Carver,” Aveline said carefully. “But regardless, I was only informing you as a courtesy. You are duty bound to the Grey Wardens. I will do what is necessary within Kirkwall to protect Hawke’s whereabouts, but…”

“I will leave first thing tomorrow and go warn them.” Fenris said with a frown. “I won’t let Anders and his actions put Hawke’s life in danger.”

“Do you know where they are?” Aveline asked.

“No,” Fenris replied. “But I know who does.”

“I can talk to the Queen of Ferelden,” Nathaniel offered, ignoring the exaggerated eye roll Carver pointed in his direction. “I’m going to see her as soon as I leave here. She has a personal interest in Anders and his situation.”

“Well that’s settled, then,” Aveline said. “Take care of yourself, Carver. Warden Howe.”

Aveline left through the front door, and Fenris took his bottle of wine down the hallway to the rooms at the back of the Hanged Man, leaving Carver and Nathaniel sitting there alone, finishing the last few sips of their now-flat ales. Samson had left sometime while the group was talking, and Oghren and the other Wardens were all snoring loudly, asleep on the floor and the surrounding tables.

“Did you know Sebastian while you lived in Starkhaven?” Carver asked Nathaniel.

“I did,” He replied. “He was always a bit of a ponce, but he’s OK with a bow.”

“I don’t think he’d really kill my sister,” Carver mused. “Or Anders, for that matter.“

“Probably not,” Nathaniel laughed. “He’s too busy polishing his fancy codpiece.”

The two Wardens continued to laugh as they left the table and returned to their rooms at the back of the inn. One last peal of tipsy laughter could be heard from the back hallway as Carver shouted “MAKER NOOOOOOOO!” as melodramatically as possible at the top of his lungs.

A few minutes later, as the barkeep was clearing the last of the tables for the night, the door burst open once more, practically off its hinges this time. A tall and broad-shouldered woman with short black hair and an angry scar on her cheek stomped into the room and up to the bar. An exhausted looking templar with curly blond hair was close at her heels. The woman looked incredibly angry as she slammed a large tome down on the counter in front of the bartender, startling most of the sleeping Grey Wardens out of their slumber.

“I’m looking for the author of this book.” She said in a thick Nevarran accent with a snarl of disgust. “I’m looking for Varric Tethras.”


End file.
